


Dancer, a Romancer

by DoctorSyntax



Series: The Precinct [3]
Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-16
Updated: 2012-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorSyntax/pseuds/DoctorSyntax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day at the Precinct is just as tasteless and over-the-top as you'd imagine. Javier finds a way to make it special anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancer, a Romancer

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "C'mon and Love Me" by KISS.

"This is tacky as hell," Javier complains, picking at the waistband of his underwear as they wait to go onstage. It's some ridiculous, sparkly red spandex/lurex version of boxer briefs, liberally decorated with little white hearts, and it makes his ass look _fantastic_.

"Dude. You're a stripper." Kevin doesn't know why he's complaining: at least he gets the red pair, while Kevin's is hot pink with tiny red cupids—which, by the way, clash. It seriously pains his eyes to look at himself in the mirror, which is a fate worse than death for a stripper. How is he supposed to rake in all the truly ludicrous Valentine's Day tips when he's going to blind every customer who tries to ogle his crotch?

Gates probably planned this. Kevin's pretty sure she's out to get him.

Javier sniffs. "I prefer the term erotic dancer," and Kevin just laughs and nudges him with his hip.

"All I'm saying is, tacky comes with the territory. I've come to terms with it, now it's your turn."

"Whatever. I just wish it wasn't Tuesday. If Valentine's Day had been yesterday, we wouldn't even have been open."

"Wait," Kevin says, catching on. "Are you upset that we're working on Valentine's Day? Is that the real problem here?"

"No—" Javier begins, sounding petulant as hell, and Kevin's jaw drops.

"You _are_! Oh, baby, don't be like that. I'll take you somewhere special for breakfast tomorrow, buy you some half-off flowers and chocolates, and romance the hell out of you. You want rose petals all over the bed? I can do that."

"Look, I don't know how you think gay relationships work," Javier replies, casual as you please, "but I didn't magically turn into a chick when I fell in love with you."

"That's what you— _what_?"

But Javier's not looking at him anymore: all his attention is on the stage, where Kate and Lanie are making their exit missing about 90% of the clothing they started with. After what seems like hours (but is, in fact, probably two seconds—just long enough to be telling), he answers, "You heard me, bro."

"What—? No! Say it again!" Kevin demands, prodding at Javier's shoulder until he meets his eyes. The girls are smiling and waving as they pass, and they probably say something too but Kevin doesn't take any of it in, too busy staring Javier down like every answer he's looking for can be found in the other man's face.

But Javier gives no quarter, just a cool smile as he heads out onto the stage to the familiar strains of "C'mon and Love Me". Kevin follows, head spinning even as a warm, contented feeling settles in the bottom of his stomach. Like every other night, the first step onto the stage is overwhelming: lights too bright, music too loud—but tonight there's an extra edge to the crowd, a kind of magnified loneliness that leaves Kevin at odds with the atmosphere of the club and makes it that much harder to slip on his game face.

They all want him, and Javier, because of how they look, the way they dance and how pretty they smile thank-you for the dollar bills stuffed into their clothing. But all Kevin wants is the person he's sharing the stage with, wants him for Madden nights and morning afters, stupid jokes and the way Javier looks at him when he thinks Kevin isn't watching.

Before he realizes what he's doing, Kevin's gravitating toward the center of the stage, to where Javier is, the mere presence of him magnetizing and pulling on Kevin. Normally they try to stay apart this early in the song, or at the worst spend a couple of seconds teasing before separating again, but the second they touch Kevin knows they're not pulling apart 'til Paul Stanley stops singing. He knows he should be focusing on the edge of the stage, where the patrons are... it's Valentine's Day, after all, and there's a lot of money to be made writhing around in the general vicinity of lonely customers. But tearing himself away from Javier is a lot easier thought than done. And shut up, okay? He's doing a really good job for someone whose boyfriend just said 'I love you' for the first time.

It being Valentine's Day, there is actually confetti falling from the ceiling. It's _sticking_ to them. Kevin's going to be covered in an assortment of white, red, and pink hearts when he and Javier make love for the first time and the worst part is he doesn't even care. He's going to fuck the shit out of Javier when they get off work. They're going to have really scorching hot, rough, I-love-you sex because Javi _loves him_ and Kevin knows for a fact that love makes sex a billion and a half times better. And, okay, maybe that's kind of sappy and girlish, but he's pretty sure he doesn't care because anything that improves their already-phenomenal sex life is worth any and all of the teasing Javier's going to direct his way if he ever says that out loud.

The dressing room is empty when they return, which is good because Kevin doesn't waste any time pushing Javier down onto the bench in the middle of the room and crawling on top of him. Tom and Castle are open-minded guys, but they probably wouldn't want to see Kevin draping his body over Javier's while they're both still in nothing but their garish hearts-and-cupids underpants. Hell, the underpants alone make it wildly uncool and Kevin wouldn't want to inflict that upon them, but he would've if he had to. Because right now? He needs to be touching Javier, needs to feel the warmth of his skin and the tone of his muscles like he needs to take his next breath. And the easiest way to do that is lay him out flat on his back.

"Oof," Javier says. "Hello."

"So you love me, huh?" Kevin asks, ignoring him. He tries to sound cool and nonchalant, but there's an anxious edge to his voice that he knows Javier picks up on.

"Against all rational thought and better judgement," Javier answers with a sincerity that belies his words, and it's a testament to their stupid relationship that a backwards compliment can make Kevin melt like a popsicle in July, but there you go.

For the sake of saving face, he makes an effort to sound annoyed. "Dude. You know you can't just go around saying shit like that to people and then walk away, right?"

"It's not like I hid it! I thought you knew," Javier protests, but it's pretty weak and Kevin can see right through him anyway.

"Bullshit." Kevin attempts to hide a smile, and fails. "You're such a bastard. I don't know why I love you." He bumps the tip of his nose against Javier's, and Javier tilts his head up to brush their lips together.

"It's probably because I have a great ass."

"Yeah," he agrees, brushing a stray pink confetti heart off Javier's cheek. "You're probably right."


End file.
